Where Are You Going
by ArashiKishu1
Summary: Things don't always go as expected, but for Seifer and Quistis, it's all the more better that way. Seiftis.


A/N: I just felt like writing this, kind of a spur of the moment idea after listening to the song "Where Are You Going" by Dave Matthews Band. So yes, this is a songfic of the sort.  And I'll admit, it's also just a bunch of romantic fluff. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Square; I'm just putting to good use two of their most entertaining characters.

Where Are You Going

She couldn't believe it. It all seemed so outlandishly unreal, the prospect of never returning to a place that had been her home for what had seemed her entire life. It might as well of been, anyway, as the greater portions of her childhood memories were still patchy, and would most likely continue to remain accordingly. 

Quistis had yet to even decide on one concrete incentive as to why exactly she was leaving. In truth, she had only a handful of reasons, none of which could stand on their very own. She supposed the idea had been accumulating inside of her, little by little. Insignificant matters here and there that had managed to continually trigger something in the far recesses of her mind. A decidedly unfamiliar feeling, a vague notion. Perhaps it had been for that very same reason, however, that Quistis had finally opted to follow her intuition. 

No one had ever anticipated that a woman like _Quistis Trepe _would one day resign from Garden. She had been all too aware of what they said, 'they' being the entire student body, the other instructors…her friends. Once Selphie had made a comment, a mere statement that had not been said to offend Quistis in any way. And it hadn't, really, as it was quite true. For the most part, anyway. She had said, and if Quistis recalled correctly, "Aww, Quistis, you must love this place as much as I love my Irvy!" 

Quistis sighed, her mind bustling with thoughts; trying to contemplate them was hopeless. Different emotions were simultaneously running throughout her system, and of coarse not a single one of them was willing to back down. If there was one thing Quistis Trepe would never succeed in, it would be handling her own damn emotions. On the inside, that is. For on the outside, she could be whatever she wanted, or needed, to be. Ah, what a useful thing to possess, the ability to masquerade one's self day after day. 

She had always indolently wondered whether or not anyone had ever noticed. What she that talented of an actress? Or had simply no one ever even bothered, nor cared, to look?

Good question, she thought wryly, only to realize that it was an inquiry to which she did not wish to know the answer any time soon.

Quistis pursed her lips together, mindfully glancing around the room so as to ensure that all of her possessions were packed. Truthfully, after over five years, she hadn't many things to rightfully call her own. Dorms at Garden had all of the necessary materials: standard bed sheets, standard soap, a standard coffee pot, and several other things of the like. Perhaps that was the intent of garden, to create an artificial atmosphere comparable to home. In any case, Quistis had been, for the most part, provided with everything she needed. And it wasn't as if she were one for mindless shopping; her room was rather pitiful compared to Selphie and Rinoa's rooms, which were quite frankly packed with…stuff. Hyne, too much stuff.

Hmmm, she continued to move her eyes across the small confines of her quarters, until she caught sight of the one thing she had forgotten. She smiled slightly, a mere curve at the corners of her lips that tiptoed along the border between fondness and aversion. Either way, it had already faded as quickly as it had appeared. 

Pressing on her knees in order to hoist herself up, she proceeded to walk over toward the wall near the window. And there she stood, right in front of it. Her instructor's license, cased in a decorative, yet tasteful frame. Behind the thin layer of glass was a thick piece of customized parchment, the color of marbled beige. Her eyes traveled over the delicate curve of her name, scripted in dark black ink. The Headmaster had personally signed it himself. 

Gently unhooking the frame from the wall, Quistis kneeled down, positioning herself in front of the cardboard box. There was just enough room left for the precious document. She carefully rested it on top of her other belongings. There, she thought, contented to have the most sentimental possession located on the top.

Finally, she closed the tabs of the box, and, with a strip of heavy-duty tape, secured the contents inside. 

Really, there was nothing else she had to do but leave. She had said her goodbyes earlier that morning, kindly asking for a little alone time before she departed. The group was more than understanding, although saying goodbye was one of the hardest things she had ever done. To say the least. 

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to remember breakfast that morning, finishing her last meal as she sat, for the very last time, at the small cafeteria table with her friends. 

And if she didn't leave now, there was a very good chance that she would walk right back into that office and request for her resignation to be terminated immediately. No, she couldn't let that happen. She had made it this far; turning back was no longer an option.

_Where are you going, with your long face pulling down?_

_Don't hide away, like an ocean_

_But you can't see, but you can smell_

_And the sound waves crash down_

Exiting the large doors of Balamb Garden, Quistis paused, only slightly struggling with the weight of both her suitcase and the box. Slowly turning around, she glanced upwards, allowing herself to regard the magnificent structure for a final time. This was it. This was actually it. 

Giving herself a moment to appreciate the radiating hues of gold and blue, Quistis turned back around, with one though in her mind: She would never be able to provide in return what Balamb Garden had given to her.

Only, when she looked straight ahead, she noted Seifer's unmistakable form standing near the fountain, back turned towards her. Clearly he was smoking; he didn't even bother to hide it. Quistis rolled her eyes; she wasn't really annoyed, but rather…amused, actually.

Seifer had yet to notice the female standing behind him, so she decided to make her presence known. "You know, Seifer, those things will eventually kill you." Her voice was not stern like it usually was; instead the statement held a sort of lighthearted sway to it. She was resigned.

Seifer flinched for the briefest of seconds, an action that Quistis quietly made note of. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything; maybe she should have just kept walking and been on her way. But something, and she wasn't quite sure of what, had compelled her to stop. Perhaps she had simply just wanted to. 

"Going to report me, Quistis?" Seifer replied, and after a few short moments, he bent down, pressing the end of the cigarette into the stone that surrounding the fountain. He finally turned to observe Quistis, expression set in his regular, conceited smirk. 

Resting the hand carrying the suitcase on the side of her hip, she lightly shook her head, and Seifer could distinctly detect the gentle, yet fragrant scent come off of her, giving his senses a good push. "You know I can't do that." 

Slightly inclining his head towards the packages resting in her arms, he asked, although already aware of the answer, "So you're leaving, huh?"

"Yeah," she replied after a moment of unwanted hesitation. "I am." Without thinking, she walked over to the fountain, setting her belongings onto the stone ledge that also served as a seat. Sitting down, she beckoned Seifer to follow. He obliged.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Not really…" she replied, paying close attention to her hands. A few moments of silence, before, "Seifer…about last week…" Oh, she had been dreading this. 

So had he.

He tilted his head, willing her continue.

Quistis mentally cursed him. Never trust a man to initiate a conversation about something as awkward as this, she mentally deadpanned. "It's nothing, really." 

"Quistis…" he sighed, "Is the reason you're leaving because of me?"

"No, of coarse not," she shook her head.

Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, he asked, needing to know the response, "Was us kissing a mistake, then?"

"No!" she quickly answered. "It isn't that at all." 

"So then why are you going?"

_I am no superman_

_I have no answers for you_

_I am no hero, oh that's for sure_

_But I do know one thing for sure_

_Is where you are, is where I belong_

_I do know, where you go, is where I want to be_

"I…" she paused. "I don't know. I guess I just need to." Quistis nervously fiddled with the zipper of her jacket, feeling ridiculously flushed with embarrassment. Suddenly she spoke, the words coming from her mouth without a second's thought. "I don't regret what happened, Seifer. Really, I don't. I'm actually sort of thankful that we had that little talk."

"Thankful, why?" he asked, curiously.

"Well, you were the first person I told about my decision to leave. I guess I sort of knew that you were the only one who wouldn't criticize my choice." Turning her head to give him a slight, warm smile, she continued, "And I was right."

"And the…"

"And the kiss." Quistis finished for him. Momentarily pausing, she looked back at the steady stream of water flowing beneath the dazzling spray of water. It scintillated in the sunlight, gave depth to the warm summer mood. The whole of it gave her a certain feeling of courage that no other place could equally provide. Allowing her gaze to travel back to Seifer, she resolved to tell him the complete and honest truth. "I'm thankful for that, too."

His mind doubled back, playing the most wonderful instant replay. It was the sweetest thing, hearing those few words come from her mouth. She hadn't regretted it, after all, and neither had he. Interesting, he thought.

_Where are you going, where do you go?_

_Are you looking for answers, to questions under the stars?_

_If along the way you are growing weary, you can rest with me until a brighter day_

_It's okay, where are you going, where do you go?_

"Seifer," she bit her bottom lip. "I'm not really sure how I feel." 

"About?" 

"You," she clarified, an almost ironic sort of smile gracing her lips.

How was one supposed to reply to a thing like that? In truth, he wasn't entirely sure of his feelings, either. But the ideas, the possibilities; they had all been hopelessly floating around in his mind in the most unfamiliar yet comforting ways. 

And dammit, he wanted to know what would happen. He didn't care about the consequences, for in that moment, Seifer could have cared less about the shitty realities of life.

He leaned forward, gently trailing his fingertips over the soft skin of her jaw line before gingerly pushing a strand of hair behind her ears. She blushed furiously, her normally pale complexion changing to a most alluring shade of red. Quistis had been caught off guard, however had made no attempt to back away, and so Seifer delicately brushed his lips over hers, appreciating the soft, velvety feel. 

This was right; he could feel it.

Quistis was equally willing; her hands moved to rest behind the base of neck as the kiss steadily grew more intense. 

_I am no superman_

_I have no answers for you_

_I am no hero, oh that's for sure_

_But I do know one thing for sure_

_Is where you are, is where I belong_

_I do know, where you go, is where I want to be_

She finally broke away, her eyes slowly fluttering open. "Seifer," she whispered, still in his embrace. The warmth from his body entirely surrounded her. 

"Hmm," he breathed, tracing his fingers over her ruddy lips. He wanted nothing more for their little moment to continue on forever. He didn't want to let her go. 

"Have you ever done anything really stupid?" She grinned, his face still hovering delightfully close to hers.

Seifer leaned back a few inches, slightly confused. "No," he sarcastically replied, yet his grin seemingly matched hers. What was she on to…?

"Great!" she responded, and suddenly, jumped up, startling him greatly. Grabbing her suitcase, she plopped it in Seifer's arms, her smile growing. 

"Quistis…" he shook his head, confused, although very much interested in where this was going. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Leaving," she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And you're coming with me." 

"I am?" he stood, the suitcase hanging at his side.

"You are," Quistis softly answered, with an enchanting shine to her eyes. The cardboard box was secured within her grasp, and she turned, gesturing for him to follow her down the long, concrete steps. She had arranged for a car to be stationed outside of Garden, ready so that Quistis could simply pull away. "Come on!" she called, already making her way down.

Even if he had wanted to, Seifer didn't dare to turn away. Nothing else mattered. He was technically still a SeeD, and technically all of his belongings were still in his dorm. He didn't care; life had far too many technicalities, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like this. Things could and would be taken care of later. Not now.

Grinning, he caught up with Quistis. 

_Where are you going, where do you go?_

_Are you looking for answers, where do you go?_

The two finally reached the car, both similarly out of breath. Seifer placed the suitcase in the back seat, and, coming around to Quistis' side, gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, feeling the need to do so. She didn't mind at all.

"So," he flashed her a smile. "Where are we going?"

Quistis paused for a moment, apparently in thought, before glancing back up at Seifer with a mysterious sort of grin. Her features were glowing with spirit and whim. "Anywhere," she answered slowly, lightheartedly. "Anywhere," she repeated, putting something small and copper-colored into Seifer's hand. It was the key to the car. Quistis hopped into the passenger's side, and after a moment of fond deliverance, Seifer followed, knowing that what he wanted more than anything was to get into that car and go to…Hyne knows where.

Every now and then one must overlook the consequences, for the possibilities are often far greater.

_Where are you going?_

_Where do you go?_

_Let's go._


End file.
